Life as a Comet
by Crimson Kildare
Summary: What would it be like to suddenly change almost completely from one form into another? To make a mistake you're not sure you can ever forgive yourself for, especially when you should have been above reproach and or it's effected others harshly?
1. Chapter 1

Life as a Comet

"…It's not all sparkle and speed, sometimes its crash and burn."

The Angel Castiel

Chapter One

The demons had fled, Raphael was meat paste on the floor and there was no apparent sign of any other angels in the warehouse. Dean tried to look around surreptitiously, wanting to collect himself and get a feel for just how badly they were screwed.

Castiel stood before them fierce and proud, he'd just told them to kneel down before him and swear their undying love and allegiance as if he were himself the one true God. He didn't blind them with his holy light or look down his nose, he didn't even make the slightest movement, and he didn't have to.

Bobby and Sam were stunned, confused and afraid; they didn't say a word or move a muscle.

Dean too, was afraid; for his friend had done something he'd never imagined him capable of and become something he could barely comprehend. Yes, he was afraid of what Cas might do on this power high; but he was much more afraid of what the fire of all those souls was doing to Cas. Never mind that if the God that created the angels was still out there somewhere, and not long ago they'd been told he was, then surely he wasn't going let this slide?

"I am waiting Dean; have you nothing to say?" Castiel asked far too calmly.

Dean swallowed and closed his eyes, and taking a deep breath opened his mouth to speak the truth and hope to …something… that it didn't get them all killed. He never got the chance.

"Castiel…" A voice proclaimed.

The voice, it came from everywhere and nowhere, it wasn't loud, yet it was undeniable; you could not tune it out. The sound seemed to pierce the soul, it was fierce, yet beautiful and it made Bobby and the boys want to weep for joy and quake in terror all at the same time.

Castiel looked stunned as the light in the room changed taking on a surreal quality as it became somehow alive.

"Enoch," he answered the terrifying and melodious entity that was there and yet not there as it began to form in front of their eyes.

A tower of flame appeared in the middle of the room, it carried within it an androgynous figure somehow masculine and yet with a sense of the feminine, broad of shoulder, but slim of waist, muscular and yet full of lithe grace. The figure was fine of feature, but bore upon his brow and held within' his eyes a knowledge that was truly staggering to glimpse. He had long waving black hair and fierce eyes that were green, gold and violet in consecutive circles around silvery white irises. He bore three tiers of great wings, a pristine, snowy white at the top, gold blending into a rich chocolate brown below them, and shinning ebony at the bottom. He wore a long flowing garment not entirely unlike a sarong. It was made of something that shifted as if in a breeze and was all the colors of the rainbow first one and then another melting into and out of various shades and ranges of color as they watched. It shimmered and shone as if lit from within, it covered his middle and down his legs and up over half his chest, his hair covering the other half even as it too moved in the nonexistent breeze. He was the most amazing thing Dean had ever seen, beautiful, dreadful, and majestic. When he spoke a second time the sound was musical, thunderous, the vibration and force of the cosmos forming and tearing itself asunder again, gargantuan, yet soothing, a paradox the mind could not bear.

"Our Father has sent me to escort you before the throne, you will come?" he asked.

"Why should I? Who will we find there Enoch? Will _HE_ be there now? Will he come and take back from me all I have worked so hard for? Why does he care now, after all I've done? Why didn't he answer me when I called, seek me when I sought _HIM, and stop me before I was his equal_?" Castiel asked angrily.

Enoch looked sad, "Why? Why did you lose faith so quickly after so long? You were such a fine example to us all Castiel, so strong, so compassionate, yet loyal and unwavering…" he sighed and the flames seemed to dim a moment, "Don't you know he has been with you all along, right under your nose? Haven't I made that clear enough to one and all time and again, is that not my very function brother?" he demanded.

"Where is he then and where the hell has he been exactly? Why should I back down now, who will run things if he will not?" Castiel fired back, and then he struck out at Enoch and sent him sprawling to the floor, "No! I am a better God than he ever was and there is no going back now, I will not give in!"

Enoch reared back as he was struck, his eyes blazing as he got back up to his feet. He strode across the room and picked Castiel up by the throat and spoke a few words in Enochian. There was nothing showy or truly visible to see, but there was a sudden change in Cas, he seemed… smaller somehow.

"I told you he is here now; he remains in power even now as he always has. Do you think simply because you do not see it with your own eyes it is not so? Have you forgotten the very meaning of the word faith?" he asked exasperated and then the force of him seemed to increase, he seemed to have been seized by something and when he spoke again it was indescribable. Bobby, Sam and Dean had to put their hands over their ears and shut their eyes a minute as they began to feel a sense of nausea and vertigo wash over them.

"_IMPUDENT CHILD! YOU. WILL. COME. NOW!"_

Castiel knew without question that he was no longer addressed by Enoch; this was as Enoch himself had put it, his very function in full force. It was the very voice of God that spoke to him now through his brother as he himself had often spoken to Dean through his own vessel. Castiel fell onto his knees as tears streaked down his cheeks and he covered his face in shame with Jimmy Novak's hands.

Dean swallowed and tried to open his mouth, he wanted to do something, to take some action, to say something, to make a plea on Cas' behalf, why he wasn't exactly sure, but he did. He was terrified, they all were, but he found a courage he would never have believed he had left and slowly, carefully and with enormous effort strode the four steps it took to put himself between Castiel and this unbearable being.

"Wha…ahh...what do you want with him?" Dean asked his voice quiet, but firm even as he shook like a leaf.

Enoch turned his head and looked at Dean with sympathy and made the slightest negative shake. Dean's throat closed and he tried to nod, but wasn't sure it worked, he wasn't sure he could actually move. Enoch returned his attention to Castiel.

Cas looked up at Dean with a shocked and grateful expression and offered him the smallest, saddest smile any of them had ever seen.

"I was wrong," he said to Dean, but didn't elaborate, "I will come," he said to Enoch as he stood up.

Enoch nodded at Castiel and their gazes locked, he caught him as he fell forward into his arms. Holding Castiel close to his chest and extending his wings, he was gone in a whirl of fiery light, wind and sound; the following ordinary silence was far too mundane and utterly deafening.

They stood there, the three of them just staring at the empty space where seconds before the angels had stood and for the first time there had been something not merely powerful and scary, but actually divine about them, or so it seemed to Dean.

They stood there for how long, not one of them could have said, as if time would never move again.

"Well, are we going to stand around all night like a bunch of idjits with our thumbs up our asses? Or are we going to go look at your car and get the hell out of here?" Bobby said, finally breaking the spell.

Dean looked around and cleared his throat, "Ahm yeah, I hope it's not totaled, again!"

Sam nodded at Dean and Bobby as he followed them outside, "So …?" he wanted to ask what happens next, but suddenly realized it might be better to just shut up for now.

Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam and saw this for himself, he shrugged and shook his head, "Let's worry about the car right now, tomorrow is early enough to start worrying about hunting and generally getting life sorted out, right?" he offered.

"Ahm… right," Sam agreed nodding.

"At least," Bobby said as they tipped the car over back onto its wheels and began the repairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Life as a Comet

"…It's not all sparkle and speed, sometimes its crash and burn."

The Angel Castiel

Previously ….

Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam and saw this for himself, he shrugged and shook his head, "Let's worry about the car right now, tomorrow is early enough to start worrying about hunting and getting you detoxed, yeah?" he offered.

Sam wanted to argue about the detoxing thing, but suddenly realized that at this point he no longer had a leg to stand on, "Ahm… right," he agreed.

"At least," Bobby said as they tipped the car over back onto its wheels and began the repairs.

Chapter Two

Castiel stood before the throne of God and there was a light there that made him flinch and avert his eyes. He was afraid, more afraid than he had been when he'd thought God had left him alone in the dark with no instruction, advice or help. The light moved from the throne to encompass and surround Castiel and it spoke in the ancient Enochian tongue. It did not shout or rail, but there was anger and disappointment and then finally heat, a searing heat and he felt as if he were being ripped apart. He wasn't, he was only being returned to his rightful state. He screamed and he fought, but to no avail.

There wasn't a single part of the whole mess that hadn't cost each one of them too much, but losing Cas had been the last straw for Dean.

It had been three months since that night in the warehouse.

Sam had worked hard to earn his brother's trust and respect in a more easy and familiar fashion. He was trying to bridge the gap that saving the earth, avoiding the apocalypse and coming back with no soul had wedged between them. He wasn't sure Dean really noticed, he was far away most of the time, whether physically or mentally, still he didn't discourage Sam either, so that was something.

In the in-between times they hunted monsters just like the old days and studied hard, not about monsters, but about angels and demons and various forms of mythology. Bobby had insisted.

"Are you serious? We've been hunting since we were kids Bobby, we're hardly green and now you want us to study up, like we're fresh recruits?" Dean had asked incredulous and stubborn.

"Yeah, I do… I do, because I'll be God Damned if any one of us is ever going to get caught with our pants down like that again! Not by anyone or anything, living, dead, undead or_ heavenly_," he said the last with dripping sarcasm, took a deep breath and went on, "…knowledge is power, so we're going to become powerful and the first one to complain will be cleaning month old garbage cans with his bare hands and a sponge in the noon day sun! You got that, idjits?" Bobby demanded.

"Yes sir." Sam said.

"Dean?" Bobby pushed.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." He replied.

Neither Sam nor Dean complained again.

In fact for his part Dean never said much at all. He worked, he studied, he trained to be in perfect shape and he hunted with a level of fierceness he'd never shown before. He drank occasionally, but not as much as he used to, which surprised both Bobby and Sam. Dean seemed to be in a near constant state of silent brooding. He'd talk when it was necessary, but any and all attempts to broach the subject of his obviously troubled state were instantly squashed. Both Bobby and Sam gave him a wide birth. They hoped that if they didn't push him, he'd come around eventually.

It had been a quiet one for a change, fixing cars and answering the phone by day and studying by the fire in the evening. They had a late dinner, a couple of beers and even watched a movie when their eyes refused to allow any more reading. Dean had even managed to make a couple of snarky comments and laugh at the funny bits. Bobby gave Sam a careful sideways look and a small smile and Sam had nodded ever so slightly, his own smile reflecting Bobby's relief. Maybe Dean was finally on his way to recovering from it all.

After the movie they'd agreed to turn in and start fresh in the morning.

Dean sat on the edge of his bed in Bobby's third spare room and looked out the window at the full moon and thought about how its glow was just reflected sunlight. The light of the sun, once believed to be the very warmth of God that gave life to all things. He sighed. He knew that Bobby and Sam thought he was just sulking, brooding, but he wasn't, at least not only that. He'd made a kind of pact with himself, one he was determined to keep. He looked at the moon and repeated the same action he'd taken every night since that night in the warehouse. He began to speak, his voice so soft that only God could have heard him.

"I've seen more than most men have ever managed to imagine or even consider, forget witnessed with their own eyes. I've fought the good fight, I've loved my family fiercely, I've been obedient and loyal and I never really asked for anything for myself. Not really, I've asked a bit for others, especially Sammy, but not for me. I never really expected to get much out of life. I just wanted to survive and look after Sam like I promised I would. I suppose I haven't always been incredibly respectful or cooperative, but at the same time I haven't let myself be led around blindly either. My mistakes were my own. I'm not a good man, like Jimmy Novak, I'm not devout or full of virtue and goodness, but I am not a bad man, not an evil man. I have given my whole life to fighting against evil and I will continue to do the same. So, I suppose you're wondering what's the point Dean, right? My point is that Cas …" he cleared his throat and wiped his eyes absently, "Cas is a hell of a lot better than I am, even in his worst moment his biggest crimes were pride, hubris and having killed some bad angels. He screwed up, I mean even I could see that, but … he did it for all the right reasons, he was _TRYING_ to do good… and the thing is, it's my fault. It's _ALL_ my fault. I corrupted him, I pushed him to help me, talk to me, give me information and do what I wanted even when I knew it could get him in trouble. I did all of that, because I thought it was the right thing too and I'd probably do it again … but… if that _WAS_ wrong, than ultimately it was _MY_ wrong, not his, maybe I can't be saved or redeemed or whatever, but Cas…" his throat closed and he had to concentrate hard to maintain his even breathing and keep talking, "Castiel was your angel and he was a good angel, a righteous angel and he loved you and he sought you out when all the others had thought you dead, or gone or just plain apathetic, but not Cas, he believed in you, always. Please, please don't punish him because I'm an asshat. Please give him back his life, his wings, whatever you've done with him, please let him go. Please God, even if I never know, I don't have to know, but please, please punish me in his place, I'm the one who really deserves it. He did it all for me, you know that, he said so himself." He thought again of the hurt, raw sound of Cas' voice and the lost and pained expression on his face when he'd demanded to know why his prayers had not been answered, why he'd not been met half way when he'd searched for his father. He wondered how that could be the fate of an angel. Shouldn't they at least be allowed to know, to sense God's presence among them? "God, can you hear me?"

Dean shook his head and wiped at his face again and lay down, still in his t-shirt, jeans and socks and wrapped the comforter around himself and stared at the moon until his body refused to remain awake any longer. He slept fitfully.

He had the dream again. That same old vague, terrifying, confusing dream; there were words, not shouting, yet they were delivered with great force, but he couldn't understand them. There was light and color, motion and pain. So much pain and sorrow! Pain and sorrow were the only truly sensible things in the dream. That and the feeling that Cas was there, just out of reach. He awoke in a cold sweat and stared at the ceiling.

"Why? Why do you keep punishing him and not me?" Dean asked and as usual, got no reply.

Castiel was not as Dean had initially feared, dead, nor was he being tortured. Well not in the way Dean's dreams were making him believe. He was in prison, in Heaven. He was no longer filled with all the souls from Purgatory. He was no longer really an angel either, although he still had his wings and his grace, more or less, its light was dim and he did not know if he could even assume his true form any more, even if he'd been allowed to try. Jimmy was gone too, that in a way was a mercy. Jimmy's soul had been removed from within' Castiel and given its own Heaven, as all souls who came here were. Jimmy was reliving his early days with his wife and daughter and would continue to do so until they came to join him. At least he would no longer suffer unduly for Castiel's sake. The body was now his and likely his only form left. His wings, fully present here were molting and looked ill. He felt horrible, he felt the way he imagined that the terminally ill must feel. He was weak, he coughed and his whole being shook with the effort it took. His punishment was not mistreatment, but ostracism and isolation and to listen to Dean's prayers. Every night, every single night without fail Dean would offer up prayers for Castiel. Begging God profusely to forgive Cas, to release Cas, to take Dean in Castiel's place. Dean's soul was in torment and he withered inside everyday and it was Castiel's fault and he knew it. This was what God wanted him to learn, that he was responsible for himself and for the human's entrusted into his care. It was his job to look after them, protect them, not to wait on them like some heavenly butler. Because he allowed himself to be led astray Dean suffered endless torment. He lay naked on the floor of his cell and cried bitter tears as he listened to Dean's mournful, pleading prayers.

'_Dean, I had no idea you cared this much for me… I thought you'd turned your back on me, fought me, abandoned me…I was wrong about that too…forgive me. Father please forgive me, please release Dean from this endless self recrimination, erase his memories of me and please don't let him wither because of me.'_ Castiel offered up his own internal prayer.

Chuck leaned against the wall across from Castiel's cell. He looked sadly at Cas and shook his head.

"You're quite the pair, you and Dean," he offered.

Castiel was startled to see anyone standing there, much less the prophet.

"Chuck?" Cas asked surprised, "What, how …you're not dead?" he was confused.

"Nope. Not dead, right here, alive and kickin'. Castiel, don't you know me, is this disguise really so good it can fool my most sincere of angels?" Chuck replied.

"You're …what? … Father…?" Castiel asked as he looked into Chuck's eyes and saw God looking back at him. He was so surprised he didn't know what to do. Then he finally heard what had just been said, "...Sincere?" he asked.

"Well that's what your friend Dean keeps telling me, ad nauseam, repeatedly, daily, nightly, etcetera and so forth. Do you know; that he speaks almost not at all during the rest of his life, because he's hoping this sacrifice will impress upon me, how deeply and heartfelt is his every word on your behalf that he will save all his words only for me until I release you?" he asked.

"I know. I can hear him, every time, every word," Castiel responded his voice rough with sorrow and anger.

"You're still angry with me?" Chuck asked already knowing the answer.

Castiel turned his face away, "Yes," he said from behind gritted teeth, "I am angry, confused and …hurt…why Father, why didn't you answer me, why wouldn't you show yourself to me? Why did you allow my brothers to become as they did, to fight amongst themselves and kill one another and why, why did you not stop me sooner? How could you expect me to do nothing, to let the whole of the universe be perverted…I wish I understood, but I don't…have I been such a bad son?" he asked as he turned and glared at Chuck. It was not exactly a cohesive train of thought, but there was no denying his mind was rife with questions.

"My how you have grown Castiel, is this a tone you would have recommended for a sister or brother to use with me?" Chuck asked him.

"No. No it is not, but then I would have been thinking of a Father who is there when his children need him!" Castiel spit back.

"I was there, I was right under your nose, just as Enoch told you. I was looking out for all of you, while maintaining my promise, the promise of free will. All the time they rail at me, 'why do you allow us to suffer so,' they scream at me, but I don't let it happen; they make it happen. They do it to themselves. Free will comes at a price, the price is that when you make bad choices you must then live with the consequences! The consequences being that sometimes the innocent pay for your stupidity!" Chuck fired back, "Do you imagine it is easy to keep such a promise, to watch them torture themselves and each other?" he added exasperated.

"You are God, surely you can do whatever you want in the end," Castiel said, moved against his will a bit by the sound of anguish in his Father's voice.

"Yes, I _could_ do anything, I have the power, but should I? That is the 64 million dollar question. Should I rescue them every time they scrape their knees or should I let them fall down and bleed until they learn to stop hurting themselves?" Chuck answered, "How will they ever learn if I don't allow them to? How will their souls ever mature, how will they ever be prepared for the next plane of existence if they cannot handle this one? Tell me Castiel, you who would be my heir and successor, what is the oh so simple answer, upon which you are so certain I should act?" Chuck challenged him.

Castiel looked at him for a long time and then finally he shook his head and sank to his knees and then to the floor. He rolled onto his stomach and hid his face in his arms and cried silently as his shoulders shook, his wings fluttered mournfully, and a few feathers slowly floated to the ground. He was truly abject and his misery was so palpable it wafted upon the air like a bitter aroma.

"Will you ever forgive me, just a little? I realize I'm not your equal Father and I know it was wrong, much of it at least …but I…I… couldn't bear it, the weight of it. Not only the suffering on Earth, but the suffering here in Heaven, in the hearts of the angels who stayed ever vigilant and obedient to the plan, but who felt as if the truth of you might have been no more than a wishful dream the elders once had. So few have ever seen your face or known the grace of your presence and with you so long gone they began to wither just as the humans had, as Dean is doing even now …please Father …" he begged at last as he prostrated himself flatly against the floor of his cell, opening his mouth to continue but...

"Castiel, stop," Chuck interrupted and just as quickly Castiel stopped, as obedient as he'd ever been, "Cas… please stand up, this is not necessary. I want your respect, your obedience, yes and certainly your love, as any Father would, but this … " chuck added shaking his head as the wall of the cell dissolved and he leant down to help him up.

Castiel accepted the hand up and stood before his father with his face turned toward his feet.

"Look at me, Castiel," Chuck said softly.

Cas looked at him, his heart heavy, his eyes wet and full of shame.

"Cas, I am not angry with you, not truly, and I am not punishing you or Dean. You've both allowed yourselves to be tempted, corrupted, used and misguided. Not by each other, but by other outside influences. You're both punishing yourselves, you're both soul sick, and this is the price of undue guilt. That is why I have placed you in this cell, not as punishment, but to protect your brothers and sisters, it can be contagious. You're not in lock up, you're in quarantine." He explained before changing the subject, "Castiel, you're an angel, you have no free will, so answer me this, how did you do all that you did?" Chuck asked.

Castiel looked at him and nodded, "I did have that thought…but … but you could not have meant for me to … to do all the things I did … to what end, why?" he asked so eager to understand.

"The time will come Castiel, when you will know the answer in full, but that day is a great long way off. Although, I would say you got a glimpse in the conversation we've just had…" Chuck offered as he pulled Castiel into a gentle and careful hug. "For now you must learn to heal your soul and you must help Dean to learn to do the same. For neither of you will know a moment's peace until you have. I could heal you both with a tiny thought, but then neither of your souls would learn a thing and it would all have been for nothing."

"My… my what? Father, I don't have a soul," Castiel answered as he hugged his father feeling small, lost and confused.

"Oh, but you do son, that's why I had to come as Chuck, I didn't want to risk your eyes, you see. I am going to send you back down now. It'll be painful losing your wings, your grace and your memories between the warehouse and now, but it's necessary. I want you to remember these next words in your soul for me, as your mind is gonna be a mess for a while, sorry kiddo. I believe in you Castiel, do you hear me? I believe in you. You had the strength to stand up even to me and to try and take on my mantel that all your brothers and sisters would not be left to the wolves. It was wrong and fool hardy in its way, but it wasn't small or greedy, it was full of love and self sacrifice. You are learning, slowly, but surely. " He explained as he reached out and laid his hand gently upon Castiel's brow and then suddenly, Castiel was falling, falling hard and fast, screaming and falling.

Dean was screaming.

Sam and Bobby came thundering into the room guns blazing, salt and holy water at the ready, but it was just Dean, alone on his bed, screaming.

"Dean, wake up, Dean, it's just a dream, wake up!" Sam offered as he shook his brother gently.

Dean gasped awake and looked around him wildly, "Get dressed, get the car, we have to go now! I hope it doesn't kill him!" he said as he leapt out of bed and hammered down the stairs two at a time.

Sam looked at Bobby, "Ok… thoughts?" he asked.

"We'd better hurry?" Bobby offered in a sardonic tone as he followed Dean down the stairs in his bathrobe.

Sam snorted and followed behind Bobby stopping to grab his jeans, shoes and jacket as he went.

When they were all outside beside the car, Bobby finally asked, "Ok Dean what's this all about?"

"Cas, he's … falling, he's about to get hit by a comet or he is a comet …errr… I don't fucking know, just get in the goddamned car!" Dean answered him.

Bobby looked at Sam.

Sam just shrugged and got in the car.

"Ok, alright, I'm comin'," Bobby said and piled into the back, still in his sweat pants and bathrobe.

"Where exactly are we going?" Sam asked, as Dean pulled the car out onto the highway.

"That field, where Lucifer tried to turn you into his meat suit? He'll be there," Dean said with complete certainty.

"…and you know this because?" Sam asked.

"I saw it, in my dream, I saw it, look you don't have to come along you know?" Dean answered testily.

"No, no, I want to, I'm just trying to understand, ok?" Sam tried.

"Yeah … yeah… sorry, it's ok. I know it sounds nuts, but … if there's the slightest chance I have to go and try, ya know?"

"Yeah, I think I get it, actually," Sam said softly and turned on the radio for Dean, he even turned it up a little. They listened to some Kansas and Zeppelin on the way and some of the tension in Dean's shoulders started to ease.


	3. Chapter 3

Life as a Comet

"…It's not all sparkle and speed, sometimes its crash and burn."

The Angel Castiel

Previously ….

"No, no, I want to, I'm just trying to understand, ok?" Sam tried.

"Yeah … yeah… sorry, it's ok. I know it sounds nuts, but … if there's the slightest chance I have to go and try, ya know?"

"Yeah, I think I get it, actually," Sam said softly and turned on the radio for Dean, he even turned it up a little. They listened to some Kansas and Zeppelin on the way and some of the tension in Dean's shoulders started to ease.

Chapter 3

As they drove up beside the field Dean could see what looked like a shooting star in the sky above. It was fiercely white and plummeting toward the earth at a staggering speed.

"Ohhh Sweet son of a bitch! How are we supposed to catch him when he's c coming down that fast?" Dean asked no one in particular as he took a sharp left into the field and bringing the car around in a wide arc, came to an impressively quick and complete stop.

"You think that fireball is Cas?" Bobby asked incredulous.

"River rafting!" exclaimed Sam.

"Ah yeah… I do," Dean nodded at Bobby and then turned to Sam, "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Remember when we had to go after that kid on a raft last year?" Sam asked and Dean nodded.

"Yeah…?"

"I still have it in the trunk," Sam explained.

"What?"

"The raft."

Dean looked nervously toward the fireball in the sky, not at all convinced they had the time to be  
>blowing up a raft.<p>

They got out of the car and threw open the trunk, grabbing the giant river raft and testing its air level. Surprisingly it was nearly full, still Sam puffed and blew into the raft as Dean and Bobby got the canvas tent and spikes out of the trunk too. Bobby used his binoculars and some old military training to track the likeliest strike zone. Once they had a good possible fix on where they thought Cas' would hit they drove the spikes into the ground and spread the canvas out over the top. They made it as tall as the spikes would allow and tied it off. It looked like a very short, sort of makeshift trampoline as Sam pulled the river raft under it.

"This should work, assuming we've calculated the spot Cas will hit correctly." Sam offered.

"This is ridiculous! We're going to catch a falling-angel-come-comet with a tent canvas and a white water river raft?" Dean asked shaking his head.

There was a sudden loud thwumping sound and the earth shook. He had no more time to contemplate the sense of it all as a great wind, a piercing light and rolling smoke seemed to fill up his senses and blot out the entire world for a moment. When the light died down and the smoke cleared Dean ran over to see what they'd caught. Cas lay unconscious on the canvas covered raft. His wings spread out beneath him at an awkward angle that looked painful to Dean. He was completely nude and seemed to be covered in soot. Thankfully after a quick and careful inspection he did not appear to be injured physically, excepting his wings. That's when Dean really began to notice them, not only were they tilted at an odd angle, but they seemed to be molting rapidly. He reached out and tentatively touched one, it was so terribly soft, but even this slightest of touches seemed to cause Castiel incredible pain. His features contorted as he made a small sound. To his great surprise and distress, Dean watched helplessly as Castiel's wings began to disintegrate into dust and then into just a sort of burnt shadow on the canvas. Two of the smaller silky black feathers floated down and landed beside Castiel's shoulder. They were the only remaining evidence that he'd ever had wings at all. Dean picked them up and carefully tucked them into his shirt pocket protectively.

"Ok, let's get him into the car and back to the house as fast as we can. We need to get him cleaned up, dressed and make sure he's alright. Bobby do you know a doctor we can trust to keep his trap shut?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, no problem," Bobby said as he grabbed Cas' feet and helped Dean carry him to the back seat of the Impala. Sam had gone ahead to pull the front seats forward to make the transition easier. They sat Cas' up a moment and Dean held him in place. Then Bobby went around to the other side of the car and got in. They lay Cas down across the seat with his head on Bobby's lap and covered him with a warm blanket. Dean pulled out onto the highway, driving as fast as he could get away with.

"You think he'll make it? I mean, he's not going to die is he?" Dean asked Bobby.

"How should I know, son?" Bobby asked, shrugging helplessly.

"It's just … I think he might actually have been falling from outside the planet's atmosphere…" Dean trailed off realizing how stupid that sounded.

"It is possible," Sam offered.

Dean Looked alarmed and then realized Sam was talking about the falling, not the dying.

"Yeah well, who the hell knows," he answered.

They had gotten Cas back to Bobby's place without incident. With Sam's help Dean had gotten him cleaned up and put into a pair of Bobby's old flannel PJs. Then Bobby had called his doctor friend to come and have a look at Cas.

When Dr. Cartwright had arrived, Bobby said, "Well Dennis, he went out hiking, up on Blind Man's Bluff over by Easton see, and when he gets back he's all limpin' and lookin' worse for wear. He said he was going to take a shower and get forty winks. That was this afternoon, but now we can't wake him to save our lives."

"Mhmm… I see, well I'll need to give him a closer examination, why don't you all wait outside a moment alright?" Dr. Cartwright replied with a distractedly concerned expression.

Dean didn't really want to leave him, but he knew how odd that might look so he just nodded and headed for the hallway. He was grateful that it didn't take the doctor long to call them back in again. First he gave them specific instructions on Castiel's immediate care needs and then he went over a basic rundown of what was wrong with him.

"Well as far as I can tell, I'd say he's incredibly lucky, having fallen off a bluff and all. He's no broken bones and the only bruising or abrasions I can find on him are along his shoulder blades. I'd say that's most likely where he struck the ground. It's amazing that he didn't break his back or at least his clavicle, just amazing. Never mind how he managed to walk home again. However he does have a slight concussion and a high fever. I've given him an antibiotic shot, to ward off whatever is causing the fever. However with the concussion he will need around the clock observation until the fever breaks and he comes out of it fully awake. This is mostly a precaution in case he takes a turn for the worse. There needs be someone with him to record any change in his condition and call me right away. However I do think he will recover and fully. It may take a little while and he could have some memory issues, also while he is still feverish and out of it, he may have episodes of delirium. So be prepared for that and don't take anything he says to heart, delirium is like a half waking dream. I understand it can be a bit of a bad trip too. Do you have everything you need now and do you have any more questions?" the doctor asked.

"No, I think we've got it Dennis, thanks," Bobby said and stuck out his hand.

"You're welcome," Dennis said warmly as he shook hands with Bobby.

Dean nodded and gave him a tight smile, "Yeah thanks Dr. Cartwright."

Sam walked the doctor out, "We really do appreciate it," he offered warmly as they stood in the yard.

"No trouble at all, I'd do anything for Bobby and any friend of his is a friend of mine. My family and I owe him our lives. This is the least I can do in light of that gift," Dr. Cartwright replied as he got into his car, waved and drove away.

Dean of course, took the first watch and it was long and entirely uneventful thank …whoever or whatever the hell was up there. Then Sam took a turn and then Bobby, it went on like this for two days.

On the third day Castiel began to whimper and toss in his sleep and whisper sharp and passionate phrases no one understood except Bobby. It was Dean's watch again when this development occurred. He called for Bobby, who came as quickly as he could up the stairs.

"What's wrong?" Bobby demanded as he flew into the room.

"I don't know what he's trying to say, but he's awfully agitated Bobby and he is opening his eyes every now and then for a couple seconds, but he seems really out of it," Dean explained shrugging and clearly worried, "Do you understand any of it, is that Latin?" he added.

Bobby listened closely for a few minutes.

"Irin, Irin!" Castiel proclaimed with deep and sincere distress as he tossed, "Sed vos non fuistis, stabilis, nec custodistis mandata domini! Nec custodistis mandata domini!"

He thrashed until Dean had to get up and hold him down so he wouldn't end up on the floor or hurt himself. After several minutes of the thrashing continuing without ease, they decided to tie him down for his own safety.

"O! Et locutus est superba duritia et vos avertit verba! Ora vestra contra lascivos magnitudinis eius, O vos duris invenietis pax!" Castiel screamed as Sam came into the room bIinking in surprise.

"Is he possessed?" Sam asked concerned.

Bobby sat down next to the bed and looked at Cas' with sad eyes and sighed, shaking his head, "No… only by his own internal demons…He's, he was an angel… he's going to bring new meaning to the term recovering catholic!"

"What does it mean?" Dean insisted, losing patience.

"Irin, fallen angel, fallen watcher…the rest …ahm…But ye have not been steadfast, nor have you kept the commandments of the Lord, nor have ye kept the commandments of the Lord…and then ahm… give me a minute…. Something about …you have turned away and spoke proud and cruel words with your filthy mouths against his greatness, oh you hard-hearted, you will know no peace! " Bobby repeated, "As I see it, it's two choices, he's either reliving the fall of another angel before him … or … his Id is tearing him a new one Dean … I think we should expect some self loathing, honestly … I doubt very much that any one of us can really even begin to comprehend the loss he's suffering here, never mind the shame and guilt," he added in a small voice.

"So what you're saying is they kicked him to the curb and sent him to us all broken and shattered inside?" Dean asked angrily, though not at Bobby.

"Ah yuh!" Bobby answered, "That'd be my guess," he offered.

"The Bastards!" Dean said as he sat down next to Cas and took his hand, "Look Cas, we do have a thing or two to talk about, the definition of family, how we treat our friends, lying and so on … but… YOU ARE MY FAMILY and I promise to wait to yell until your whole and healthy and sound, ok?" he said trying to sound light hearted. _'Just don't die, please, please don't die!'_ he thought as he frowned, unaware he was still holding Cas' hand between both of his.

"Well, this looks like what Dennis warned us about. You've got the cloth and water bowl, the thermometer and the Tylenol, I think you two are going to be alright for now," Bobby said, wanting to leave them alone. It seemed clear to him that Dean might have more to say if he and Sam weren't in the room. He looked down at the man unconscious on the bed and couldn't stop trying one last thing to help him.

"Dilectus es Deus et homo, tu es benedictus, Castiel," Bobby a said to him in a calm, soft voice.

Cas calmed slightly, his brow creasing as if in concentration.

Dean looked at Bobby a question all over his face.

"I told him he is loved by god and men alike, that he is blessed. Think about it Dean if it weren't true on some level he wouldn't be alive now and we wouldn't have taken him in either," Bobby offered.

Dean nodded, "Interesting point," he said, "Maybe I should, I don't know read to him or something, aren't you supposed to talk to people in a coma?" he asked.

Bobby smiled a little, "That's what they say, although this isn't exactly a coma… but what the hell! What books would you like me to bring up?" he asked, "I've got some Greek philosophy or ahh…"

"How about Thoreau or some other nature poetry, I bet he'd like that kind of thing," Dean said.

"You've heard of Thoreau?" Sam asked teasingly.

"Yeah, I don't know any of it, just that he spent a lot of time in the woods. Look I went to school ya know, bitch," Dean answered, feigning irritation.

"Yeah, a few days here and there, jerk!" Sam responded.

Bobby just smiled and nodded and went back downstairs to look for the books Dean had requested.

It had been eight days exactly; Dean had counted them, by minutes and hours, eight days that Cas had lain unconscious in this bed in Bobby's second spare room. He was beginning to really fear he might never wake at all, although the doctor had insisted that he was stable. That had to be a good sign. He was still reading to him every day. Today it was Thoreau again, although they had also shared some Shakespeare, Plato, Bond books, Archie Comics and even some of the worst, most offensive fan fiction Sam could dredge up off the web. Dean had been hoping with that last to shock Castiel into wakefulness by offending his sensibilities. It had not worked and at this point he was really hoping he wouldn't recall that particular reading when he did wake up.

"I Knew A Man By Sight," Dean read out the title and then continued on with the poem.

"I knew a man by sight,  
>A blameless wight,<br>Who, for a year or more,  
>Had daily passed my door,<br>Yet converse none had had with him.

I met him in a lane,  
>Him and his cane,<br>About three miles from home,  
>Where I had chanced to roam,<br>And volumes stared at him, and he at me.

In a more distant place  
>I glimpsed his face,<br>And bowed instinctively;  
>Starting he bowed to me,<br>Bowed simultaneously, and passed along.

Next, in a foreign land  
>I grasped his hand,<br>And had a social chat,  
>About this thing and that,<br>As I had known him well a thousand years.

Late in a wilderness  
>I shared his mess,<br>For he had hardships seen,  
>And I a wanderer been;<br>He was my bosom friend, and I was his…"

Cas had opened his eyes at 'I met him in a Lane' … and was listening intently to the poem and the sound of Dean's low, resonate tones. He actually had a very pleasing voice and although he would likely not value it, when he wasn't thinking about it, he read aloud very well. The poem was one Castiel new well and he felt somewhat bemused and at the same time humbled by Dean's reading it. Clearly he had been here, wherever here was, although it had a familiar feel to it, for quite some time. It was also clear that Dean had somehow found him and brought him here and had been looking after him, caring for him. After the way he'd treated them at the warehouse and if he were honest with himself, long before that… he couldn't understand why. He finished the poem with Dean in perfect unison.

"…And as, methinks, shall all,  
>Both great and small,<br>That ever lived on earth,  
>Early or late their birth,<br>Stranger and foe, one day each other know."

Dean looked up sharply from the book and smiled, "Hey, good mornin'," he offered.

"I do not deserve this treatment, Dean, why are you doing this?" Castiel asked.

"Torture," Dean said with total dead pan perfection.

Castiel looked confused, his brows coming together in consternation and confusion.

"Joke, it was a joke Cas, I'm doing this, because this is what we do for each other in this family," Dean told him firmly.

"I told you Dean, you're not my family, I have no family," Castiel said with a perfect poker face, even as it broke his heart to do it. Dean deserved a better, finer friend than him and he couldn't accept this kind of kindness and mercy from him, not after what he'd done.

"Oh well that's a shame, but you are my family, so suck it up bitch and get used to it. Now the doc said you need a lot of rest, but that as soon as you wake we were to one, make sure you eat and drink as much as you can and two, make sure you visit the bathroom as soon as possible and before any of that call him immediately! So that's exactly what we're going to do. You are going to accept that and not give me any lip about it either. You want to be a bastard fine, be a bastard, you want to fight, fine we can do that too, but not until your well. So for now play nice or shut up. Got it?" Dean returned with no room for argument or for that matter comment.

"Yeah, I got it."Cas answered.

"Good." Dean said and stalked to the door, "Sam, Bobby! He's awake call the doc and get the soup on, now!" he called down the stairs. They could hear a great deal of movement and the distant sound of excited voices. Dean went back and sat down in the chair.

"So," he asked, "Shall we read another poem or would you prefer to sit here and stare at each other?" Dean asked.

"Whatever," Castiel replied, trying this tactic out to see how it would work as he began to realize he was tied to the bed, an odd sensation.

Dean just smiled, "Excellent, let's have another poem, I have just the one, hold on…" he said as he put the first book down and rummaged around on the side table for another. He found it and gave Castiel a sort of smug, shark toothed grin and then began to read.

"Sonnet 29

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself, and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings."

Castiel's mouth dropped open, the implication of this recitation was either a compliment and perhaps a confession, the like of which he'd not once imagined possible, or it was a nasty dig so deep he might never recover from it. Looking at the angry expression on Dean's face, he could only know that he wouldn't be certain which it was for quite some time. He wasn't entirely sure he even wanted to know. It seemed that either way, dealing with it might rip what little of himself he had left to shreds.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Life as a Comet

"…It's not all sparkle and speed, sometimes its crash and burn."

The Angel Castiel

Previously ….

Castiel's mouth dropped open, the implication of this recitation was either a compliment and perhaps a confession, the like of which he'd not once imagined possible, or it was a nasty dig so deep he might never recover from it. Looking at the angry expression on Dean's face, he could only know that he wouldn't be certain which it was for quite some time. He wasn't entirely sure he even wanted to know. It seemed that either way, dealing with it might rip what little of himself he had left to shreds.

**Chapter 4**

As soon as Cas had woken Bobby had called Dr. Cartwright who came immediately to see to his patient. He supervised his food intake and made sure he was able to make all the usual bodily functions, well ...function. Finally satisfied of Castiel's ability to manage with the minor supervision of his family; he relieved him of all the equipment he'd been hooked up to for the last eight days. He also apologized for the inconvenience and discomfort they might have caused him upon waking. He then assured Cas that he was on the road to a full recovery.

"Well Castiel, I must say that you've been amazingly fortunate, most people who'd taken such a tumble would have been much more seriously injured. You must have a guardian angel watching over you." Dr. Cartwright offered with a smile.

Castiel gave him a dour look and the doctor cleared his throat rather uncomfortably.

"Well, I can see that you need your rest, I'll leave you to it, but please be sure not to overdo it. Trying to do more than your body is ready for too soon could lead to serious complications. I would like your word that you will be careful and heed the advice of your family here, to whom I have given explicit instructions as to your care and recovery needs. Alright?" he added a moment later.

"You have my word, doctor." Castiel assured him in a resigned and quiet tone.

"Good, good, well, I'll be seeing you again in a few days." The doctor said as he gave him a smile and excused himself.

The moment the doctor was gone, Dean launched into a full explanation of what had taken place from his perspective. How he'd had a disturbing dream that compelled him to get up and drive to Lawrence to look for him.

"So we pull up to the spot where it all went down and there's this bright fiery light, looked for all the world like a comet, barreling down, coming right for us...Sammy had this big old white water river raft in the trunk and we've had a tent for ages, so ... Well Sam got the raft filled up all the way and Bobby and I pounded the tent stakes into the ground and tied it down like a tarp. We got it as far up off the ground as we could and Sam put the raft under it see ... and well it made the best make shift impact cushion we could manage. I gotta tell you I was worried, I mean as fast and hard as you were coming down...I had my doubts about whether it would work...but I didn't have time to look for another option, because just as the thought came to me, there you were in a raging flash of light, smoke and pounding sound." Dean said, and then took a breather, clearly hesitating.

"How did you know where to put it?" Castiel asked, generously pretending to be interested.

"Bobby, military training, something about tracking a trajectory... you'd have to ask him, sorry..." Dean answered.

"No worry, it doesn't matter..." Castiel said and then gave Dean a more piercing look, "What aren't you saying?" he asked.

"Well, when you...landed, you were hurt and not just the bump to your head, but...your...your wings...they were all crooked and then..." Dean could barely get the words out, not wanting to hurt Cas by rubbing brine into his open wounds. The image of all that beautiful, satiny black expanse slowly dissolving and finally turning into no more than an acrid smelling shadow against the tent canvas made Dean feel heartsick and helpless even now. Castiel knew it didn't matter, that nothing could ever make him feel better again, that nothing could save him from his disgrace and there was no forgiveness for him either.

"It's alright Dean, I know what happened...don't...don't think about it, alright?" Castiel offered kindly.

Dean just nodded and swallowed hard.

'_I am … I was an angel, an angel of The Lord and I behaved like a selfish, whining child, not only am I deeply ashamed, but I should be! I should be and more and nothing can wash away the stain of falling from grace. It would be stupid and foolish to think so. I'll just have to learn to live with the fact that I've turned out to be flawed and unworthy of my father's love and trust.'_ He thought to himself with a fierce anger.

There was a long moment of painful silence and then Dean began to talk again, trying to explain to Cas about his human ailments. It was the longest Castiel had ever heard Dean speak at one time and it took effort to stay tuned in and pay attention. Not because he didn't care about Dean's words or efforts, but because he found that all he really wanted to do was curl up in a tight ball and black out, if only he could.

"So you were sort of in a coma or well in and out of one I guess … it's kind of confusing, but when Dr. Cartwright found out that you hadn't woken up within' a few hours of his first visit he flipped his lid! You should have heard him arguing with Bobby. Going on and on about how he couldn't condone us not taking you to a hospital and why exactly wouldn't we anyway? Bobby was clever though, he told the Doc it was against your religious beliefs…"

Castiel snorted, but didn't say anything and Dean went on.

"Anyway, he said that if we wouldn't take you in to the hospital then we were just going to have to let him bring the hospital to you…"

Castiel interrupted softly, "Why didn't you want to take me to a hospital Dean?"

"Oh… well…we weren't sure how long this transformation takes or if it's even supposed to be a complete one… so we weren't sure if your blood work might show up something odd? We didn't want the feds showing up and trying to take you away somewhere…" Dean tried to explain feeling a little stupid suddenly, "… so, anyway, that's why when you woke up, not only were you tied down, err… to keep you from hitting the floor and hurting yourself with all your thrashing; which the Doc also gave us holy hell about by the way, but why you were all trussed up with tubes, machines and…" Dean blushed profusely, "The err… catheter …" he finished.

"Catheter … is that the name of the… thing… that was shoved up Ji…up my…" Cas found he couldn't finish the sentence it was just too weird and too intimate, even if he was closer to Dean than he had ever been to anyone else.

"Ah yeah … sorry man… really…" Dean said awkwardly.

"Was it necessary to keep me alive and healthy?" Cas asked.

"Yeah, I would never have allowed it otherwise," Dean said vehemently.

"Then there is no need to apologize you did what you felt was right and what you felt you had to … I… I have never been ungrateful for your friendship or your…concern…" Cas offered quietly.

"Well not when you're in your right mind you haven't been, no, and I have noticed that, Cas, I have." Dean assured him.

Castiel was so grateful for this small comment that it made him want to scream at himself_, 'You are not staying here any longer than you must Castiel, you will not contaminate Dean and his family with your stain!'_ he told himself forcefully.

Dean frowned as he looked at Cas, "What are you thinking right now?" he asked carefully.

"Not much," Cas lied, and was ashamed of that too, "I'm really weary Dean, would you mind letting me rest for a while?" he asked.

Dean bit his lip and pushed the unreasonable anger this caused aside, "Yeah, sure, ok man … you rest, you need it … just heal up, ok?"

"Yes, I will heal…" Cas replied, _'Physically.' _He thought.

It was about four hours later when he heard Cas shrieking and Dean ran up the stairs two at a time.

"What is it, what's wrong, are you in pain?" Dean asked, his heart thudding in his chest, his blood singing in his ears.

"No …I …something … is really wrong with me …I … I was lying here, trying to rest and then everything began to swim in front of my eyes, my head throbbed, I felt dizzy, nauseous and then I lost consciousness, there was such a horrible lethargy about me, my limbs felt as if they were made of lead …am I going to die after all do you think?" Castiel asked.

Cas' expression was even more terrified than the one he'd given Dean in the whorehouse. He thought about what Cas was saying, trying to noodle it out, was something wrong, did he need to call the doctor again? Then suddenly it hit him and he couldn't stop himself laughing, he laughed hard, tears threatened until he caught the murderous look Cas was giving him.

"Sorry, sorry Cas, really, it's not funny, you're scared, this is all so new and bizarre to you …but, there's nothing wrong with you Cas. You're fine, honest, I mean you still have some recovering to do, but …you just fell asleep, that's all, you were exhausted and you were fighting it, because you're not used to sleep, it doesn't even occur to you to consider trying it, but that's all it was man. You fell asleep," he explained.

"It's horrible, terrifying, how do you stand it?" Castiel asked truly perplexed.

"You just need to get used to it Cas, it's actually kind of nice, it can be a great pleasure, really," Dean offered gently.

"I find that very difficult to believe," Cas replied.

Dean smiled, "Yeah well it's hard for me to imagine what it must have been like to be an angel, but I bet it was kind of amazing in some ways, yeah?" he asked.

Cas smiled a little, just a very little, "Yes, some of it …" he said looking at the floor wistfully.

"Look, I realize it's like way, way too soon, but if you ever want to tell me about it, I'm here, I'll listen and I'm interested," Dean said.

Castiel laughed, "Now you've developed an interest in Heaven?" he asked incredulous.

"No." Dean said soft and certain, "I have an interest in knowing about you, in …who you are, what your life was like…before…us…" he said feeling suddenly uncomfortable and guilty again.

"Dean what happened to me was not your fault; it was my own fault entirely. I know you see me as nearly childlike sometimes and I understand why, but I'm not Dean, I'm really, really not."

"Well …okay …but sometimes you do …miss things…" Dean tried.

"Yeah well, I had a lot on my plate at the time, maybe …" Cas stopped as he realized what he was about to say; he couldn't say it, he couldn't let himself.

"Maybe?" Dean urged.

"Nothing, never mind," Cas said, shutting down.

Dean sighed and nodded as he heard Bobby in his head, _'…I think we should expect some self loathing from him Dean…not one of us can possibly conceive of the loss he's suffering right now.'_

"Okay, well I'll just go get some supplies then," Dean said and stood up.

"Supplies?"

"Yeah, I'm going to crash in here tonight, keep you company," Dean said with a non chalance he did not feel.

"That is completely unnecessary," Cas said stubbornly.

"Yeah, you got the strength to get up out of bed and kick me out?" Dean asked.

"NO."

"Yeah? Too bad so sad, I'll be right back."

'_Oh yes, well that was entirely mature Dean, entirely!'_ Castiel thought as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared…then he looked down. _'What am I doing? I am eons old, I will not behave like this!'_ he told himself as he uncrossed his arms and sighed heavily.

A moment later Dean came back into the room, carrying a sleeping bag, a pillow, an air mattress and some extra blankets and linen.

Castiel watched him set this all up and wondered at it, the bed he was on was big enough for at least three grown humans to lie on comfortably and yet Dean felt it necessary to go to all this trouble to sleep on the floor. Maybe he did not wish to get too close to him now that he was stained? Surely that wasn't it, after all Dean had never been a very judgmental person before…

"Dean…?" Cas began and then stopped.

"Yeah?"

"Why, why do you go to all this trouble when the bed I am on is so large?" Cas asked.

Dean smiled at the innocence of the question, "Well…for one thing, normally two men don't share a bed unless A: they're brothers and have no other choice due to some unusual circumstance or B: they're lovers, as for tonight I'm mostly worried that I might hurt you if I roll around too much or accidently kick in my sleep or something. You've fallen from a height I can't even wrap my head around, your back is hurting your head took a beating, better safe than sorry Cas," he answered.

"Then you are not … afraid to be near me?" Cas asked.

"Afraid to …no Cas, I'm not afraid of you… I'm not sure why you think I would be, but I'm not, ok?"

"Are you going to ask me why?" Cas asked.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dean asked.

"Not really."

"Then no." Dean answered.

Cas nodded, "Thank you, will you be alright on the floor like that?"

"I'll be fine, I promise."

"Alright, good night Dean."

"Good night Cas."

A couple of long moments passed…

"How does one fall asleep pleasurably?"

"Hmmm….well you could…no…ahm well…no…do you like to sing Cas?" Dean asked.

"I don't know any music, except classical pieces and gospel songs and I really don't …" Cas began.

"Man…ok, no worries, gimme a minute here, just hold that thought ok?" Dean urged.

"Ok…"

Dean got up and sat down on the edge of Cas' bed, leaning back against the headboard.

"Ok, close your eyes and breathe deeply, try to concentrate on every inch of your body one inch at a time, starting with your toes. Let your toes relax and be lose and comfy and then move up to the next inch and do the same until you've gone all the way from your toes to the top of your head. While you do that just listen to the sound of my voice, ok?" Dean asked.

"Yes, alright," Cas answered.

Dean opened his mouth and sang in a soft, quiet, even tone, his voice was soothing and pleasant to Castiel's ears.

"I close my eyes

Only for a moment and the moment's gone

All my dreams

Pass before my eyes a curiosity

Dust in the wind

All they are is dust in the wind

Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind

Now don't hang on

Nothing lasts forever but the Earth and Sky

It slips away

And all your money won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind

Dust in the wind

Everything is dust in the wind

Everything is dust in the wind…." He finished.

When Dean looked down, Cas was sound asleep and his expression was one of nearly peaceful sleep. He still wore a slight look of weariness, but he didn't look troubled for the moment and Dean was grateful. He returned to his palette on the floor and allowed himself to sleep as well and was pleased to wake in the morning to find Cas still sleeping soundly. No nightmares, no thrashing for the first time since they'd brought him home. Dean shook his head at the direction of his own thoughts and laughed inside.

'_Sleeping through the night for the first time since we brought him home? What is he a baby? He's an …he's a man…just a man…just like me…that's going to take some getting used to…'_ Dean thought.

When Cas did wake up, he had to call for help. He was still too weak to make it to the bathroom or any room on his own. This was a fact that did not sit well with him; in fact he hated it intensely. It made him feel weak, helpless and childlike. It also made him even grumpier than he'd already been. A weight his troubled psyche really didn't need.

"Hello? Dean? Can someone hear me?" Castiel called.

A moment later Dean came into the room, he wasn't smiling, but his expression was pleasant.

"Morning, how you feelin'?" Dean asked.

"Like I need to use the bathroom; a sensation that I honestly do not believe I will ever get used to. It is utterly revolting." Castiel answered.

Dean nodded, "Yeah…I think I can see how you'd feel that way. You want a hand getting there?" he offered kindly.

Dean helped him out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom. He'd explained to him how everything worked the night before, so he let him try it all on his own. He knew Cas would have a difficult time on his feet for a while after so long in bed not using his muscles, but he didn't want to overstep his bounds. Cas had such incredible dignity and he really, really didn't want Cas to feel like he was stepping on it. Cas managed well enough on his own for using the facilities, and the usual pre-shower clean up and teeth brushing. He found he liked brushing his teeth; it was an exhilarating sensation and left him feeling very clean inside. However when it came to taking a shower he found he really couldn't stand that long and his legs began to shake. So he called to Dean who he knew was camped outside the door, just in case he needed something. Dean showed him how to fill the tub and how to get in and out of it without falling.

"Thank you," Castiel said quietly.

"You're welcome…Cas…I…just so you know, there is no shame in being new at something, even if that something is being human. Ok?" Dean offered.

"I understand," Cas said giving him a tired smile.

Dean nodded and went back out so Cas could take his bath. Afterward he made sure that Cas had something he liked to wear and that he could manage getting dressed on his own. He was able to get dressed without help, so long as he did it mostly sitting on the edge of the bed and let Dean help him with his shoes. Another point of internal contention that made him feel childlike.

'_How will I ever make up for the past or earn his respect and trust again, if I can't even tie my own shoes?' _Cas wondered plaintively.

"Ready for breakfast?" Dean asked as he helped Cas down the stairs to the main floor.

"Do I have to make it?" Cas asked a bit nervous.

"No man, no. Maybe later on we'll teach you the basics of cooking, but for now don't worry about it, really." Dean said smiling encouragingly.

"Oh, alright." Cas nodded, clearly relieved and Dean felt bad for him.

'_This all must be ungodly alien and freaky for him…'_ he thought to himself.

They were greeted by the smell of eggs and bacon as they sat down at the kitchen table. Bobby had made ham and cheese omelets with onion, black olive, green pepper and mushrooms. He'd also made hashed browns, toast and, of course, bacon. It looked fabulous and Dean was starving. Castiel found the smell of the food extremely enticing and this surprised him, as it had never really affected him before. Bobby served them up once Sam had set the table and poured the juice. Dean tucked right in, but Cas found the look Sam was giving him rather odd.

"What's bothering you, Sam?" Castiel asked.

"Don't even…" Dean warned his brother.

"What? Look, I'm just concerned ok? He is my friend too ya know," Sam said offended.

"I think he can manage to eat an omelet without you giving him mother hen eyes," Dean retorted.

"Oh well excuse me for giving a shit if he chokes! I mean the only time we've ever seen him eat was when famine made Jimmy crave White Castle and he ate like a thousand of the things at warp speed through a process more like inhalation or osmosis than chewing, ok?" Sam answered angrily.

Cas watched this exchange go on for a moment and then he laughed, he laughed really hard.

Bobby smiled, it was good to hear Cas laugh and he was grateful that what could have been disastrously awkward had turned into a moment of laughter and hopefully healing.

"What?" both Dean and Sam asked Cas at once.

Still chuckling a little and smiling his first real smile since he'd arrived Cas replied, "I do actually know how to eat, I won't choke. That may have been the only time you've seen me eat, but… I did occasionally eat to keep my…body… from feeling…too…empty inside. I … I did try to do what I could to make Jimmy as comfortable as possible when I was able… "

Sam looked chagrined, but smiled at Cas, "I'm sure he appreciated that, really." He offered softly.

Cas nodded to indicate the truth of it and took his first bite of food as a man. It was really good and he moaned quietly.

"Bobby makes a mean omelet; of course, it's just about the only thing he can make really well…but…" Dean began.

"Oh go stuff yourself! I'm a damn good cook and you know it," Bobby huffed at Dean and Dean grinned, clearly pleased with himself at having successfully yanked Bobby's chain.

"It is really very good, thank you Bobby, for the food and…for letting me stay here, for everything you've done for me…I …am grateful," Cas said. _'…and I really don't deserve it, not at all…'_ he added internally.

"Speaking of saying thanks …I guess I really ought to offer mine to you, Cas," Sam offered.

"What?" Cas asked completely stunned by the idea, "For what?" he asked.

"Well I should be chasing after my marbles, my sanity, as it scatters to the wind, but I'm fine, that was you right?" Sam asked.

Cas looked suddenly green, "No…I…I think it was God Sam and even if it had been me, I still wouldn't deserve a thank you. I…I have a lot to make up for and I know that. For whatever its worth, I am truly sorry for the wrongs I've committed against you Sam, against all of you."

Sam smiled, "Yeah, I know." He offered kindly.

Dean looked sour, "We'll talk about all that later. Right now, we're all alive, we're together and we're either fine or well on our way to being fine, so let's be happy about that, ok?"

"Of course," Cas offered looking miserable and contrite.

"Well I have another question, if that's alright?" Sam asked Cas. Dean gave him a look, but he ignored it.

"It's ok, go ahead," Cas encouraged, curious.

"Well you told Dean a while back that only very rare people can see an angel in their true form and that Dean isn't one of these rare people. I'm pretty sure that neither Bobby nor I are either…so how come when what's his name came for you we didn't all melt?" Sam asked.

"You mean Enoch?" Castiel asked him.

"Yeah, him," Sam agreed.

"Ok, I admit I am curious about that too, but if you don't want to talk about that stuff right now, you don't have to Cas," Dean told him firmly.

"It's alright, really Dean, I don't mind, and actually it's a very astute question," Cas offered and then went on, "Well it's a matter of reality and illusion mixed. You see the man, the body you saw, that was Enoch's vessel; a beautiful, androgynous youth of nineteen years by the name of Socrates Andropolis from a small village in Greece. He's quite pious and devout actually and he's lived an exceptionally long time now, never aging, but that's a story for another day. In any event the rest of what you saw, his wings, his clothes, the light and color, all of that was a projection, a kind of glamour if you like. He used his vessel and then used the power of his mind to make you see what he wanted you to see. His wings do look like that, but he was not showing you his actual wings. I know it must be rather confusing. However the effect he had on you when he spoke? That was no illusion, that was all him. He could have appeared to you as no more than a projection of his original human self and still had the same effect upon you when he spoke. Also you must not confuse his…style for vanity. Every time he manifests visually he does it in a way which he feels will express the power and glory of God. Enoch is a very powerful, faithful and unique angel. He was once a wizened, devout old man, a prophet who was so beloved by God that he was taken before his death to Heaven and made into an angel. He became God's scribe, his very voice in Heaven and on Earth."

"You mean Enoch…that… he was the Metatron?" Bobby asked awed.

"Yes." Cas answered.

"Metatron? Sounds like a transformer," Dean interjected.

"What is that …Metatron?" Sam asked.

Cas smiled at them, amused, "Like I said, the voice of God. You felt it when he spoke. Have you ever felt anything like that before when speaking to an angel?"

They all shook their heads no.

"That's because you were simply speaking to an angel, but when you speak to the Metatron, to Enoch, you speak directly to God and he to you. When he speaks, he is reflecting God's voice, his will, like the moon reflects the light of the sun. You remember Moses and the burning bush? Well, that was Enoch, that burning bush," Castiel explained.

There was a very pronounced silence and a complete lack of movement around the table for several long seconds, "Wow. So…ahm… if Enoch comes to fetch you that means…?" Dean asked.

"That I was a very, very bad angel," Cas said in a self deprecating way, trying for humor and only half making it.

"Oh…yeah…right…" Dean said feeling like an idiot, again.

"Dean?" Cas asked.

"Yeah?"

Would you teach me how to tie my shoes now?" Cas supplied.

Dean grinned, "Sure."

"OH! Are you going to show him about the bunny and the tree?" Sam asked.

"Well yeah, of course, Sammy," Dean said.

"The bunny and the tree?" Castiel asked, his tone suggesting exceptional incredulity.


End file.
